My First Day
by mecoolerest001
Summary: The story of a murderer in Gotham and his introduction as a supervillains henchman.
I am a murderer. Please know that first and foremost. I killed my wife and my children with a sledgehammer back in 1999. Most people would try to justify the action by saying they were insane or they were drunk. Not me. I killed the dumb bitch and those whiny kids because they annoyed me. Every day my wife cried about how poor we were and how she made a huge mistake in marrying me and how I should be faithful. She died first. I beat her head into a bloody pulp while she lay sleeping in our bed. I never had to hear her cry again. My cunt kids died next. I just hit my baby boy once in the chest with the hammer. With a soft crunch I knew it was done. Bastard never shut up. He would stay quiet now.

My girl was last. I dragged her out to the street and hit her over and over starting at the legs and working my way up. My asshole neighbor hearing the screams tried to stop me. I broke his jaw. I took longer with her, she was my favorite. She deserved to suffer more. She never got my name right. My name is Daniel and before you read it wrong I'll spell it out for you idiots. Its pronounced like Danielle.

I was sentenced to 3 counts of life no parole. I didn't argue. I didn't even fight the cops when they showed up. I took what was dealt to me and have been in Blackgate Maximum Security Penitentiary ever since. I don't bother anyone and no one bothers me. Well except the one time my cellmate called me by the wrong name. I broke his arm in three places and ripped out two teeth. I'm a big guy you see. I stand at six feet four inches and people say I'm built like a brick house (Whatever the fuck that means). Life has become easy. Everyday was the same routine. I liked it. It was the first time since my dad died that life has felt normal.

September first 2014. I'm sure if you lived in Gotham you heard about this. Three armed gunmen ran a military grade hummer through the front gate of Blackgate. Seven guards were killed in the assault and fifteen were wounded. That doesn't even take into account the inmates but who gives a fuck about them. To be fair the gunmen only killed three of the guards and wounded four. The rioters did more. The gunmen opened all the cells and let hoards of murderers, rapists and thieves of us were taken by the gunmen. Me, Sticky Dave and Greg. The assault was quick and it was abundantly clear we were the three prisoners they wanted to free. Others asked for help escaping and earned a bullet for their efforts.

I suppose this is the point where the small details get important. First and foremost I should tell you about the scum I was dragged off with. Sticky Dave was a rapist. He assaulted three women and kept them locked in a basement. He held them for roughly twenty years before he was caught. At that point the man's in his fifties. His hair white and deep harsh wrinkles canyon his cheeks and forehead. He looks a lot older than he was. I think that is because he wasn't treated well in prison. He went from dom on the outside to sub on the inside. That was until he bit some assholes cock off. Remember what I said about him looking older. That cockless prick learned real quick just how fast and sharp old Sticky was. Despite his physical abilities the man was still a coward. He hid from any fight and was rumored to be a rat.

The last abductee Greg was known for doing bank heists. He was a black and he was basically still a kid. I think he was 18 or something like that. He was the newest of us in that prison. Apparently he went to some prep school and was some sorta computer whiz. He claims he started working for the mob by hacking the NSA. I think he's full of shit. A braggart of the worst kind. But he definitely knows how to work computers, he ain't lying about that. Knowing the kid was good with computers the warden stuck him in the commissary. He got protection from the gang leaders by adding a few extra dollars to their commissary allowance. The worse thing about him was the kid was cocky. He knew he was smarter than you and liked to let you know. Asshole.

All right now you know who the three of us are. I was confused why the three of us were targeted, especially me. We were not the worst assholes in that place nor were any of us in particular demand. The kid maybe but I get the feeling the mob was happy to let him rot in Blackgate. I'm just some asshole who killed his family there is nothing special about me. But they came in pointed a gun at me and told me to and I quote "get the fuck in the car". So naturally I got the fuck into the car.

"All right assholes. You were picked by the big man special." The man sitting across from us in the back of the hummer has his face obscured with a bright green balaclava.

"Wh . . . where are you taking us?" Sticky can't help but stutter in fear. Pussy.

Greg looks Sticky over with a condescending glare, "Who the fuck cares? I want to know which big man is looking for us." He turns his attention to the gunman "So?" he probably thinks it's those mob cocksuckers he worked for.

The man's eyes harden, "you'll see soon enough." He obviously thinks for a moment "If I hear anything else out of you, I'll shoot you." Who ever this man was he clearly didn't want to tip his boss's hand too early. I get the sense this is more out of fear than duty.

The rest of the ride is in silence.

We end up in Gotham's shipyard. The facilities used to build boats but closed back before I went to prison. I'm surprised these hulks are still standing. Ramshackle as they were for the time, years of neglect have left the buildings desolate and apparently crime building we drive up to is large . I mean really fucking big. The doors look like something you would see in one of those old King Arthur movies. Huge and imposing. They also seems out of place. The doors are well made and their green and purple paint stand in stark juxtaposition to the old rusted sheetmetal walls with the chipping red paint. The streetlights are broken and a bonfire started next to the warehouse is the only thing providing light. And to top it all off the pavement is cracked with some light vegetation growing through. We are herded out of the hummer and forced to walk to the warehouse. The closer we get the more I can hear the muffled music coming from behind the door. It sounds like the theme song to that show Rawhide. Sticky trips over the cracked pavement. The gunman who I think drove the car kicked Sticky and told him to move his ass.

The doors are shoved open with what seems like a lot of effort. Whoever made these doors made them super heavy they have to be hard oak or some shit. As the doors part a shaft of slowly grows larger showing a moderately lit room on the other side. A large warehouse sat before us. It was hard to make out all the details for certain but it looks like makeshift walls were put up to turn the warehouse into more of a base. I could barely make out the railing running around the walls of the room. A railing that appeared to have rows of men leaning on it staring at the center of the room.

In the center of the room danced a man. He pranced and spun in circles around an old record player. His body was lean and wolfish but he moved with the grace of a large cat. A tiger maybe. Living in prison you get to know just by how someone moves how dangerous they are. This man was cyanide, knives and guns rolled into one moving mass. I couldn't make out his features in the dimly lit room but I could hear him sing. He was way off tune but he belted out anyways and I could hear calls of encouragement coming from off to the sides.

That's when some sexy little thing swayed onto the improvised dance floor. She moved from the entrance after speaking to one of our guards. She wore a black and red leather jumpsuit adorned with card symbols. She said in a heavy New York accent "Mister J they . . ." She was silenced as with deft speed and ferocity he whirled around and slapped the woman sending her toppling to the floor.

"How many times have I told you to not interrupt me while I'm singing to rawhide?" He bellows looming over the girl. His voice is sharp as a knife.

"Nev" Her voice breaks as she starts to cry "never."

His voice instantly changes from harsh anger to whimsical humor "Oh right, heh heh."

He spun on the spot kicking over the record player breaking it. Then struck a pose calling out "Alright boys, lights,camera, action!."

The warehouse lit up. That's when I got my first good look at him. While dancing about he kicked up clouds of dust and the dust was settling floating about the man like mist. He wore what looked like a very expensive purple suit that really needed a trip to the drycleaners. His shirt orange and his tie green. He looked like death himself. His skin was white. Not ,you know, like a white dude but white like a bedsheet. White like snow. White like nothingness. His harsh eyes were a bright green which sits in complement to the green hair neatly parted on the top of his head. The worst part was the mouth. Lips like blood framing stained and cracked yellow teeth. This evil clown grinning madly at me had to be the Joker. I had heard of this freak when I was in the joint but I figured he was just some run of the mill crazy. I was wrong.

The woman curled up moaning her blonde hair obscuring her face. The room itself now fully lit looked like a staging ground for some sort of war. Tables sat shoved against the walls covered in wicked looking guns. I'm pretty sure one table had a rocket launcher. A long red carpet, probably stolen from some big Gotham theater, lead to two doors that would take you deeper into the warehouse. This carpet was also lined with a railing that kept back the armed men. The walls themselves were coated in graffiti and posters of the Joker impersonating Uncle Sam. But instead of reading _I want you,_ it read _I'll kill you_.

The clown deliberately stepped onto the woman's back causing her to howl out again. And waltzed his way over to us pushing off of her causing her to be flattened on the floor. You probably thought that was some clever turn of phrase but no he literally waltzed his way over. Twirling and humming while pretending some belle was in his arms.

"Well well," his grin broke out even larger " I can tell this one's happy to see me!" he waves his hand at sticky who has clearly pissed himself at this point.

With a half chuckle he points to a table in the center of the room. It's clear he wants us to walk so we do. Even if I've never met the guy I've heard enough to know you obey. As we approach he motions to the gear spread out across it. Guns, bullet proof vests and grenades. "Well boys arm up!" Greg starts to argue but is hit in the stomach by one of the henchmen. He falls into line quick.

We do as we are told and take the equipment putting it on. As soon as we are suited up the gunmen shove us into a line. And the clown stalks in front of us imitating a drill sergeants march. "I selected you magots, heh heh, because you were three of the most depraved, most evil, most unreasonable human beings I could find the files on in Blackgate. You are being enlisted into an elite core. The best of the best. The only guys Dent and Cobblepot didn't grab up heh heh."

I knew I was in way deeper than I wanted to be but I had to play along. I started working through scenarios to try and escape but was was certain any of them would end with me dead. The room was full of armed men and the stories I heard made it clear something as simple as a paperclip would be a deadly weapon in the Joker's hand. I also knew I needed to try to not breathe in any gas. I had seen the news reports showing his victims.

"Now!" He stomps in front of us clicking his feet together in imitation of a salute. "I run a tight ship here. Let me go over the rules". He instantly loosens up and walks up to sticky. Holding out his hand he says "Give me your gun."

Sticky panics. Fumbling to comply. With shaky hands he offers the gun to the Joker. The Joker bows slightly to Sticky taking the forty five in his hand and without warning, or ceremony, shoots Sticky right between the eyes. His body falls back hitting the table causing a few grenades to roll onto the floor. Greg starts to retch but holds it back. He clearly doesn't want to rouse this monsters notice.

"Rule number one. Never give anyone else your gun," He turns his eyes on Greg. "Now" he gave the kid an overly sweet smile "Give me your gun." Apparently Greg didn't do a good enough job escaping notice.

Greg has thick beads of sweat running down his forehead. All the smart ass in him seems to have looks like he has lost the ability to speak as he shakes his head no. With a loud bang his face is gone as quickly as I blink. Turning his attention on me he screams "Rule two. Always do what I say." He laughs and throws the gun carelessly to the side. His laugh is the sound of death incarnate. I felt my muscles tense at the sound. My balls shriveled up into my throat. His laugh reverberates throughout the warehouse drowning out the continued sobs of the curled up woman.

"Well Danny boy it looks like you won. I was going to have you fight the other two to death but it seems I beat you to it." He erupts in another laughing fit, Greg's blood streaking his face and brains tangled in his hair. "Now are you ready to take control of GCPD?"

I could feel my face harden and all sense of self preservation left me. "My name's not Danny."

The man stops. His eyes harden and his smile fades into a cruel scowl. "Harley?"

She instantly stops sobbing and lifts her head "yea puddin?"

"We have a new volunteer to babysit the kids." His voice is soft but harsh. I fucked up. The cruel smile returns to his demonic face. It's my turn to piss myself.

"Yay!" she shouts and and runs over. The left side of her face is horribly swollen. "They always love a new friend!" She hangs on the madman's arm, crooning.

With a wave two large hyenas are brought from the other room nipping at the various henchmen lining the walkway. I shake and quiver as I feel the vest forcibly pulled off me and I get shoved onto the long red carpet as the two beasts prowl up. Like I said before I am big but I wasn't willing to put up any fight. Maybe Sticky wasn't the real pussy.

The two hyenas wore collars and were overjoyed when the blonde fell upon them granting them a large hug and a bevy of kisses.

"Oh mama's babies are here!" She turned and I saw nothing but a broken woman's madness in her blue eyes. "Look daddy got our babies a new toy!"

"Dinner's up!" the Joker cried as he undid the leashes letting the creatures bound toward me.

I was too frightened to move. Dark cackling was the last thing I heard. Whether it was his laughter or the Hyenas. I'll never know.


End file.
